


Eye For an Eye

by Lycaon Shadowhunter (TachyonStar)



Series: Y'senia's Plot Antics [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Mention of blood, still strangely fluffy what the actual hell really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24331108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TachyonStar/pseuds/Lycaon%20Shadowhunter
Summary: It's never a good idea to let one's guard down.
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Series: Y'senia's Plot Antics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756690
Kudos: 8





	Eye For an Eye

**Author's Note:**

> ...I'm apparently making a series out of this stuff. *sigh*
> 
> I'll admit it, I just wanted to make getting Thancred's blindfold through the MSQ plot-relevant, and the fight with Fordola gave me the perfect opportunity to do exactly that.
> 
> ~~Now I just need to figure out when exactly Thancred first inadvertently called Senia by the familiar version of her name...~~

"No...not after everything," Fordola pants out angrily, her eyes brilliant with the rage that's practically radiating off of her, dragging herself to her feet and raising her blade once more with trembling arms. "I cannot lose...I will not!"  
  
Looking far less than impressed, Lyse squares her shoulders and stares Fordola down, almost as if taunting her to keep trying. "Oh, but you will - without your tricks, you're nothing," she counters, her fingers curling slightly like she's dying to punch Fordola across the room, and I'm silently a little impressed by her restraint when she doesn't. "Conrad, Meffrid, your own comrades...I should kill you here and now for what you did! But," she balls her hands into tight fists, then takes a deep breath and forces them to unclench, though the cold fury in her voice lessens not a whit. "There's no place for that kind of justice here. Not in _my_ Ala Mhigo."  
  
A strange sound escapes Fordola, some mixture of a disbelieving snort and a sarcastic laugh, and she takes a step forward, though the effort of moving sends her to one knee again from pure exhaustion. "Oh, how _very_ bloody noble of you," she sneers, raises her head to glare daggers at Lyse, lips twitching like she's trying very hard not to spit on the floor at our feet out of pure disdain. "You'll pardon me my sins, will you? After you and your 'freedom fighters' come and tear down everything we've worked so hard to build? We were fighting for our people's freedom!" Struggling upright once more, she inhales deeply, giving her head a hard shake in yet another futile attempt to fight off the lingering effects of the aetheric siphon. "Not that I'd expect _you_ to understand that--"  
  
"You're slaves to a tyrant," Lyse interrupts stiffly, turns her back to Fordola, clearly fighting the urge to punch her again. "There's _no_ freedom in that."  
  
Fordola's eyes widen, then narrow, and I don't even realise she's about to move until she _does_ , somehow finding the strength to leap forward and aim her blade at Lyse's back.  
  
I don't think - I can't, I just _react_ , a cry of alarm escaping me as I throw myself between them, never mind the several ilms of cold, battle-scarred steel now coming directly at my face too quickly for me to raise my own weapon and deflect it. " _Lyse_ \--"  
  
White-hot agony takes me the next moment as the blade bites into my flesh, and my cry this time is wordless, underscored by Lyse's shocked scream.  
  
I can't rightly even guess what happens then; the next thing I know with any semblance of coherency is warm, strong arms holding me, the dizzying tingle of healing magic washing over me, and it's so _hard_ to open my eyes but I struggle to do it nonetheless, blurred vision slowly coming into just enough semblance of focus on one side to make out Thancred and Alphinaud's panicked expressions overhead. (That explains it then - Thancred must have caught me when I fell, and Alphinaud has been working on - how _bad_ is it, anyway, I can't seem to raise my hand to feel for myself--) "Ow," I manage, hardly more than a raspy breath, but it's worth the effort to see the relief that floods their faces. "That was...not the smartest thing...I've ever done."  
  
"Not even _close_ ," Thancred agrees a little tightly, but I know him well enough to know he isn't actually angry, and the way he brushes my cheek with a shaking hand would prove it even if I did think otherwise. "Gods above, Y'senia, I thought the worst when she struck you - _please_ refrain from giving all the rest of us heart attacks, won't you?"  
  
"But...Lyse--" I struggle to sit upright, or to at least turn my head, but I'm far too weak for the former and Thancred's fingers clasp my chin tightly enough to prevent the latter, and I give up without bothering to protest because even that much effort has my head spinning violently. "Is...is she..."  
  
Thancred nods, briefly turns his own head, presumably glancing in Lyse's direction. "She is unharmed - thanks to you, I must _grudgingly_ admit - but you, on the other hand..." his fingers release my chin, trace slowly up my cheek to free a large section of hair from where it's apparently stuck to my skin, and the faint disquiet in the back of my mind is growing slowly louder as the strands come loose. "I expect you've come to realise that faces make terrible shields and won't be doing that again. Now. How many fingers am I holding up - _without_ turning your head?"  
  
"Er," I say unthinkingly, because if I'm perfectly honest, I had no idea he was holding any fingers up at _all_ \- and that disquiet's now becoming a clamour of alarm, the world feeling as if it's just fallen out from underneath me and Thancred's arms are now the only thing keeping me from plummeting into nothingness along with it. "This is...a trick question, right?"  
  
Alphinaud stifles a despairing sound, and I promptly wish I hadn't asked.  
  
Thancred curses quietly, pushes me abruptly into Alphinaud's arms (surprising the both of us, from the way Alphinaud tenses even as he takes hold of me) and reaches up behind his head; I can't even honestly tell what he's doing at first, a little too disoriented from the sudden movement and from trying to come to terms with everything, and it's not until a length of cloth still warm with lingering body heat wraps across the injured side of my face that his intentions come clear. "This will have to do for the moment," he says, pushes my hair aside so the bandana lies flat and ties the ends firmly off, tilting my chin up again to look intently at me for a long moment before nodding slowly once. "We can't rule out the possibility that it's simply too _dark_ in here, or that your vision might return once you get moving and your aether stabilises again - and it can't _hurt_ anything, at the very least, to keep it covered until we know for sure whether you can tolerate brighter light or not. Do you think you can stand?"  
  
"...I don't really have much of a choice, do I?" Forcing the slightest of humourless smiles, I take a deep breath and valiantly fight back the dizziness, managing to reach up enough to grip at his forearms tightly and using that support to stagger to my feet - it's infuriating, really, how weak I feel, and I'm determined _not_ to look any more so than I absolutely have to, even if it means I fall flat on my face for about a week and a half once we're to safety. "I'll be fine. Krile - see to Krile. Then we can get out of here."  
  
He looks like he wants to protest, but at a pointed look from Thancred, Alphinaud glances briefly downward before nodding reluctantly, turning to head for the capsules further in. "...Very well. Just don't push yourself."  
  
"You seem to assume I would _let_ her, even if she tried," Thancred retorts after Alphinaud's retreating back, and I can't hold back a breathy snort, never mind that my head spins again at even _that_ much and I'm forced to tighten my grip in order to even stay on my feet. This is completely ridiculous, I can't understand why I'm still so off balance - and I don't even get very much time to dwell on that bit of annoyance before there's an arm round my shoulders and another beneath my legs and I'm being _most_ unceremoniously lifted, letting out an indignant squawk at the suddenness of it, starting to draw breath to protest but letting the words die unspoken on my lips when he looks down at me with an uncharacteristic seriousness. "I do not want to hear a single word of argument out of you. Let me do this."  
  
"I," I start, then let my head settle against his shoulder obediently, any urge to resist well and truly gone at that expression. "...This is embarrassing, you know."  
  
"That only means you're still _here_ to be embarrassed at it." Thancred hesitates for a moment, looking like he's trying to decide what to say, and after a glance around that I'd almost swear is downright nervous, he looks down at my face again and exhales slowly, shakily, letting his voice drop to a near-inaudible volume. "...Do you have _any_ idea how much you scared all of us? When I saw you fall, when I saw the _blood_ \- I was certain we were - certain _I_ was going to lose you. In all my life, I cannot remember _ever_ being so terrified..." he closes his eyes tightly, bows his head a little, and I'm almost certain I can feel my heart shattering into a thousand little guilty pieces as I bring a shaking hand up to cup his cheek as best I can. "If you ever do something that utterly reckless again, Senia, I - I haven't the slightest clue what I'll do, but rest assured, it will _not_ be pretty."  
  
"I'm sorry," I whisper, my throat tight, because really, what else _can_ I say when he's being so open, so _vulnerable_ , even calling me by the familiar form of my name that he's only ever spoken before in the midst of passion? "I-I only..."  
  
"...I know. I know. I'm not...angry with you." Taking a deep breath, Thancred opens his eyes again, the corner of his mouth tugging briefly into what might have wanted to be a wry smile someday. "As much as I might _like_ to be, that's hardly what either one of us needs right now."  
  
I make a sound that's somewhere in between a laugh and a sob, press my hand to his cheek a little more firmly for a moment and then let it drop, deciding a subject change is probably in order. "...Lyse is all right, you said?"  
  
"Not a scratch on her," Thancred nods, clearly just as willing to drop the uncomfortable subject as I am, which is frankly relieving. "In retrospect, I suppose it might be a bit amusing that the very instant you hit the ground, she drop-kicked Fordola across the room. Honestly, that might be the fastest I have ever seen her move in all the time we've been working together, and I have certainly seen - no, never mind that. She would be furious with me were I to start regaling you with tales of the past--"  
  
"I can _hear_ you, you know," Lyse's unamused voice comes from across the room, and it's all I can do not to start laughing.  
  
"You see why I prefer to keep my mouth shut," Thancred says in a stage whisper, his own expression settling into genuine amusement, and I _do_ snort helpless laughter at that, feeling a little more at ease now. "There, that's much better - looking so serious does not suit you in the least. You seem more alert as well, so I can only assume the effects of the aetheric disturbance have well and truly worn off. I still have no intentions of putting you down, however, no matter how much you might attempt to protest."  
  
"You're lucky I'm too _tired_ to protest." I do mean it as a joke, but it's also not untrue, my head settling back against his shoulder as Alphinaud rejoins us, holding protectively tight to a very dazed-looking Krile. "What of Fordola? What do you intend to do with her?"  
  
"I'm taking her back with us," Lyse responds, followed by a grunt of effort that is presumably her hauling a most recalcitrant Fordola upright. "Alive. She's going to answer for what she's done, once her head stops ringing from making friends with my boot."  
  
Fordola snorts, and though she sounds disoriented - presumably from the aforementioned drop-kicking - her voice is still surprisingly steady. "Listen to you, talking like you've already won. Zenos is going to tear you apart. He commands a power echoing that of the eikons - a power even _you_ cannot stand against."  
  
I don't even have to look to know Lyse is frowning; it's echoed in her tone. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"The hunt, you stupid cow - I'm talking about the hunt!" Fordola barks a laugh, sharp and bitter. "He said you'd come, and here you are, his willing prey. You and your friends are dead - just like mine. And all our misery, all our sacrifice...it was all for naught!"  
  
"No," Lyse tells her firmly, voice steely and cold. "You're going to live long enough to see us win our freedom. I promise you that."  
  
"May I live a thousand years," Fordola mutters, with a pained groan as Lyse manhandles her into my field of vision, just close enough that I can see she's glaring daggers at me like she's upset I didn't have the decency to give up and die.  
  
Thancred sighs, shakes his head, and then he's turning to head for the exit, cradling me tighter to his chest as if to protect me from the ferocity of that glare. "Interrogations can wait until we reach safety. Let us be off."  
  
"Can't we knock her out first?" Alphinaud asks dryly, and when Lyse mutters something that I'd _swear_ was "do _not_ tempt me", I'm forced to bury my face into Thancred's shoulder to stifle my laughter.


End file.
